Underestimation
by LizNoxzy
Summary: A death should not be mourned. The departed should not be missed. But what if things had been different - an Alternate Universe story derived from Revenge of the Sith.
1. Authors Note

**Authors Note:**

Exactly 2.4 hours after 12:01 at the release of "Revenge of the Sith" I was struck by an incredible sadness. And I'm sure I don't need to explain to anyone why.

And, although I strongly respect the Canon of George Lucas and think the film was wonderfully done, I am still curious of what would have happened if things would have been different.

Don't get me wrong, I am a diehard Star Wars fan and I worship whatever George Lucas wants to do with the characters and don't want to fuck with that in the slightest. But the tiny bit of me that fell in love with Anakin Skywalker (Yeah, I'll admit it), wanted it to end differently. So, for all of you ranging from Fangirl (although I despise the bunch of you), I will let you know that in this Alternate Universe novel-length fiction, Anakin comes away unscathed (i.e. no mutilation). So, while this is not a happy fiction in the slightest (like the countless other ones I've seen where Anakin denies the dark side and skips off with Padme: their arm's interlocked) this will satisfy those that screamed out in fury as Anakin was stripped of his beauty. And, I will, again, admit that it irked me, too. So, although I hesitate to become one of the "OH MY GAWD! ANIKIIN IZ ToTaLlY HAWT! I am ToTaLlY Mrs. SKYwawker!111 lolllllll" people, I will say that along with satisfying the bigger part of me that questions how Star Wars would have been if 'things had been different' it still lets me go to sleep at night picturing Anakin next to me (which has become a regular habit). So, my point to all this is, for all you fangirls that are looking for a quick Anakin/Padme romance where he decides to skip off with her into the sunset and flip off Palpatine, and perhaps make hot passionate love in the fields of Naboo… that is not this. But, he does avoid mutilation. And, also, this is probably not for those who do not enjoy Alternate Universe fictions. But that's kind of a given.

Lastly, I will say that there are NO Mary Sues. I might add in some essential characters to the stories, but I promise that none will be manifesting as me the all powerful True Chosen One or something stupid like that. So… with all that out of the way… enjoy.

PS. I also read somewhere (I'm not sure where) that on one of the Star Wars video games there might be a similar 'option' or something of the like. I'm not really sure. But if there is any correlation to one of the games, it is purely a coincidence as I have never played any of them.

PPS (yeah, yeah). I don't have a beta and I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors. But I am not well known enough to have a beta, apparently. If anyone would like to help me out in that department (because my mind goes about a mile a minute, and sometimes my typing can't keep up), than I would greatly appreciate it. Cheers.


	2. Endings

**Chapter One**

**Endings**

The molten lava of Mustafar was blazing on their skin, and Anakin's eyes blazed red from the reflection, his face hooded and caught in shadow – the cut across his eye seemingly deeper and more menacing than before. Effortlessly, he balanced on the debris that was carefully pulling away on the river of lava, boring a glare into Obi-Wan that shook him to his very core. The distress on his face was clear, and he was trying desperately to break the hard exterior of hate. But, with a sinking heart, it seemed that the Dark Side was all consuming.

After that fraction of a second – that seemed much longer, Anakin spoke once more, his death ridden voice tearing into Obi-Wan's heart more than any light saber could.

"This is the end for you, my Master. I wish it were otherwise."

The rest of it seemed to go by in slow motion, Anakin effortlessly springing from the surface on the construction droid, rage emanating from his entire being as he flipped onto the work platform, and their sabers clashed together with a sickly recognizable fizz. Anakin wobbled on the end, fighting to regain his balance, but just in time parried his blade to Obi Wan's and continued thrashing at him. Although to any bystanders, it may have seemed uncivil and uncontrolled, but the force was guiding both their movements. Anakin's pallid skin seemed to be hit with a dull sheen of fire from the lava, and his eyes continued to blaze as he took the offensive and assaulted Obi-Wan.

Distressed, Obi-Wan simply blocked the bone crushing blows from his former padawan, trying so hard to see a fraction of who Anakin used to be, but was unable. The anger and hate coming from him was overpowering, overwhelming, and suffocating. The Dark Side of the force seemed to be pressing down on him, and he was gasping, sweat beading on his forehead as his heart pounded in his head.

Obi-Wan cursed, as their lightsabers hit again, forcing them both face to face, as they both tried to push each other off. Anakin's eyes blazed once more, and Obi-Wan knew there was not much more he could do. He had to end it. Obi-Wan, his senses now dulled, and his vision spinning and blurred from the heat of the molten rock that surrounded them, leapt from the platform and landed on the crumbling rock that led down to the lava.

"It's over, Anakin," Obi-Wan shouted, feeling another drop of sweat slide down his face, and he stared squarely at his former padawan, fury still evident on his face, unable to crack, "I have the high ground."

Obi-Wan gestured around him, numb from the heat. Anakin kept his gaze, eyes boring into his head angrily as he glanced around, still balanced on the platform as it slowed from lack of movement.

"You underestimate my power," Anakin bellowed at him, his voice seemingly in harmony with the roaring of lava and explosions as volcanoes of fire erupted around them.

Slowly, Anakin turned as the platform continued down the river of lava, making sure he kept careful eye contact with his former master. He was weighing his options, and Obi-Wan could tell.

Suddenly, Obi-Wan realized what he was about to do. Fear was struck in his eyes.

"Anakin," he said, distressed, "don't try it."

A glint of a smile shown in Anakin's eyes and he jumped.

Obi-Wan's eyes widened in surprise as Anakin manipulated the Force and flipped up and over him. Wildly, Obi-Wan thrashed at him with his lightsaber, but to no avail. Anakin was too strong, the dark side, although evil, was suffocating. Anakin's lightsaber crashed into Obi-Wan's, and they fought once more, ferociously, and, Anakin forced him down the hill, black soot from the rocks clouding around their vision and fizzing on their lightsabers.

"Look who," Anakin said, swinging madly, "has the high ground now."

With a sickening slam, Anakin hit Obi-Wan's lightsaber bodily and they held it there for a while, using both physical power and The Force to push one another.

Finally, Anakin bettered him, and slammed Obi-Wan away who fell backwards and slid down the soot, clouds of ash billowing into the air, as his lightsaber lost its light and rolled away. Anakin threw out his hand and effortlessly summoned the lightsaber to his hand, igniting it and advancing on Obi-Wan who dug his hands into the ground, barely missing the lava that was scorching behind his head. Sweat continued to poor off of his neck and he stared up at Anakin who had a morbid smile across his face, twin blue blades in his hands as he advanced on Obi-Wan.

"I hate you," he hissed, and just as he had with Count Dooku, he scissored the blades together, scraping them up against each other and a few blue sparks fell to Obi-Wan's clothes, burning miniscule holes and stinging his skin.

The blood was pounding through veins, his mind racing as he panted, but unable to keep the morbid smile from his face at h is victory. He didn't feel anything. He was above everything. He had conquered – he had won. There was no greater feeling. All the same, it was the scariest feeling he had ever had, hate dripping from him and encroaching into the tension into the air.

"I hate you," he said, louder, waiting for a response. It felt so good, so empowering. The most powerful thing he could say – overpowering all the sentiments and good wishes he could say.

"I loved you, Anakin," Obi-Wan gasped, sitting up, and still panting, watching helplessly as Skywalker lowered his scissored blades to h is throat, knowing he could kill him in one fell swoop, "You were my brother."

"Then why?" Anakin bellowed again, "Why did you betray me?"

"You're mind has been twisted by the-"

"You liar," Anakin screamed, voice even overwhelming to the roaring lava, "You are the one that twisted me. You are the one that destroyed the Empire. My Empire!"

"My EMPIRE!" he screamed, whole body shaking, "You would have ruined me. I won't let you."

Without warning, Obi-Wan a look of shock on his face, Anakin ripped the blades apart, and lopped off his old master's head, sparks landing cruelly on the ground and the sicking swish of the lightsaber still reverberating in Anakin's ears.

With a roar of fury, Anakin continued to plunge his blade into Obi-Wan's lifeless body, his entire body out of his control as his lightsaber continued to sear holes into the headless body of his friend.

Tears were falling from his tainted eyes, and Anakin flung Obi-Wan's saber into the lava, hearing the sizzle and corresponding explosion as the sacred Jedi weapon fizzled and burst under the molten river, sending a fountain of embers into the sky, one hitting Anakin hard on the hand and he moaned in pain. Anakin's robotic arm shot to his other hand, but his eyes were fixed on the lifeless body in front of him.

"No…" Anakin hissed his voice hoarse as the heat blistered his windpipe and vocal cords.

"You betrayed me," Anakin said to the dead body, his hand trailing down the robes of his fallen master, the same tired glare fixed on his face as when he had aided in the killing of Master Windu, "you underestimate my power."

Anakin stood, surveying the damage, cold eyes darting like mice that have lost their homes… but slow and jostled. He muttered incoherently as he slowly pushed and shoved the headless body toward the lava with his boot, slowly rolling it further into the river of molten rock.

With a fizzle, the robes caught fire, and it snaked upward, Anakin backing up, watching coldly as the flames erupted over his friend's body.

Slowly the anger set in again, his brows curving downward and eyes glassy once more. Anakin slowly grabbed the hood of his robes and put it over his head, retreating up the sandy black soil.

As he reached the peak of the hill, Anakin turned, wind billowing in his robes as his sinister form reviewed his surroundings.

Anakin looked down at his lightsaber that Obi-Wan had helped him make, and ignited it, looking at the wavering blue blade. Darth Vader hurled it into the fire, and continued on his way.

Yoda, sitting next to Bail Organa and speeding away from Coruscant, was still panting from his battle with Palpatine… or Darth Sidious. He closed his bulbous eyes and tried to forget the images of death and destruction. Dead. All of them. Gone. All of them.

_A disciplined Jedi, I am, _he thought to himself, reprimanding his thoughts that still afforded too much sympathy to the dead younglings that were smeared across the floor like blotches of red paint in a once peaceful canvas.

_Let go of those close to you. Do not mourn them. Do not miss them. _Even for Yoda… it was not easy. He slowly and blearily opened his eyes, looking back on Coruscant's fading lights – the city planet's bustle dying down as it disappeared behind them. _Meditation I will need._

The small green creature reached up and rubbed his head slowly, moss green skin now more pallid then usual.

Suddenly, he felt something. Yoda reached toward the feeling, manipulating and sifting the Force until the feeling hit him like a train. A feeling of pain – of suffering.

He gasped, clutching his hand to his heart, and his eyes snapped shut. Vaguely, he heard Organa inquire as to what was bothering him, but the feeling that ripped apart his very soul overpowering him.

Organa looked over, panicking as Yoda's eyes flickered and he creased his brow, a look of pain and sorrow etched on his green face.

"Master Yoda?" Bail Organa asked again, slowing the speeder and wondering if he should go back to aid the apparently pained Jedi Master.

"Keep going, you must," Yoda snapped, his clawed hand reaching for this head and scratching. It looked as if he was searching for something he couldn't quite come in contact with. And then Yoda's expression relaxed.

"Triumphed," Yoda said sadly, lowering his engorged eyes in despair, "the dark side has."

Anakin's gait quickened. He was numb. Power was pulsing through him – he knew – but he was unable to feel it. He finally broke into a run, following the winding trails through mountains and galloping over the bridges that stretched across rivers of lava. The path he had followed countless times before… the times he stood contemplating his plans, and killing those that would get in the way. It was his Empire. Would be his Empire.

But he was numb to the world. A single thought pulsed through his entire being: Padme. What had he done to her? He was sprinting now, his throat dry with the heat and his exhaustion, but he continued moving, swiftly and expertly through the winding caverns of Mustafar. _What have I done? _Eruptions of lava roared to life around him, oozing from craters and sizzling constantly – a deafening symphony of heat and destruction.

"Shit," he muttered to himself, realizing that half of the Mustafar corridor had been torn down by his fight with Obi-Wan. What fight? He hardly remembered it… merely a blur of color and hate. So much hate. Fury. The memories forced tears to his eyes, but Padme was still racing through his mind.

"Our empire," he shouted at a lake of lava, which simultaneously erupted with a fountain of sparks and molten rock. His dull and clouded mind tried to think of another way around, and he turned from the dead end, praying that he hadn't taken down the emergency hangar as well.

Anakin started sprinting once more, heavy uniform weighing heavily on him for the first time. The suffocating melody of the dark side still racing through is mind – a choir of hate and anger, and an orchestra of anger and jealousy.

Darth Vader was in a frenzy now, running a hand through is hair, matted with sweat, and he scrambled up the dark ash hills and coughing as the clouds of dust forced their way into his lungs. The heat and the pounding anger and hate were still running through him, forcing him to hands and knees as he reached the top of the hill.

He rolled onto his back, pain and exhaustion overwhelming – the only thing stopping him from moving was the leaden weight the suffocating pain and suffering. Tears were streaming from his eyes as he stared up at the red clouds swirling overhead – mocking him. Images of Obi-Wan flashed through his mind, _when he had first given him a lightsaber._ _Their careful banter back and forth as they fought seemingly impossible forces side by side. The teachings, the lessons, the meditation._

An indescribable wave of pain jolted through him, and he coughed, the soot and heat drying his throat and he couldn't swallow. His chest was heaving, and his fists clutched the earth under him, as if he would fall upward into oblivion. His head was spinning. He coughed again, soot and ash expelled from his lungs.

_Obi-Wan being afraid of the Dark Side. Betraying him, having to keep Padme and his relationship a secret from him. The constant insinuations of him being an inferior. Who was the inferior now?_

Obi-Wan had turned Padme against him. The person he had loved. She had changed as much as he had, and it was Obi-Wan's fault.

"We could have ruled the galaxy," Anakin roared into the unforgiving, red clouds, "together. I loved you. We could have given our child everything. EVERYTHING."

No one answered, and he felt anger surge through him again. The council didn't trust him. Yoda didn't trust him. They had all been against them, and they were all The Enemy. They deserved it. He didn't need to feel sad – no despair, no regrets. The Sith were all he needed, the power. He could have given Padme everything.

"I could have given you everything," he sobbed now, quietly to himself, and he rolled into unconsciousness, the merciful blackness the only thing that could quiet his frenzied mind.


	3. Calla Lilies

**Chapter 2**

**Calla Lilies**

The hospital ward was silent except for the slow cooing of the medic droids that hovered over Padme – the sterile smell irritating Yoda's nose, but he didn't move. Leaning on the gnarled stick as usual, the Jedi Master's face was hooded with sadness as he looked through the windows at a motionless Padme.

"How did she get here?" Bail Organa said behind him, interrupting his thoughts, and Yoda slowly turned his sad eyes to the senator's confused face.

"Parked the ship you have?" Yoda asked, ignoring his question, "safe it must be."

Bail nodded, eyes now locked on Padme's form as the droids around her prepped her unconscious body for surgery.

"Brought her here, the droid see threepio has. Sent to look after her, he was."

"Is she going to be okay?"

Yoda didn't answer. He just closed his eyes and sighed before, with the clicking of his staff against the hospital floor, walked into the room.

The small Jedi Master hobbled over to Padme, and stood, watching her calm face.

Gradually, Yoda tapped into the force, sensing Padme's still fluttering spirit and prodding it gently.

Yoda closed his eyes, prompting Padme to stir.

"Master Yoda?" she mumbled, and he opened his eyes, "Is Ani okay?"

Yoda looked at her, large eyes narrowed, but look of sympathy still present.

"Seduced by the dark side, young Skywalker was," Yoda said cryptically, not really answering.

"Did," Padme asked, creasing her brow in slight confusion, "did Obi-Wan kill him?"

"Dead, Darth Vader is not," Yoda said slowly, "Dead, young Skywalker is."

Padme's look of distress ebbed away.

"There's still good in him."

"Corrupted, Anakin is," Yoda reprimanded sharply, his nerves on end as he stroked the top of his head in thought – tiredness burning his eyes, but when he closed them, images of death assaulted him – the dead padawans strewn on the floor, the Jedi masters killed by their own troops. He sighed.

"There's still good in him," Padme repeated, undaunted, her truth becoming her insanity, "There's still good-"

A contraction hit her violently, and she closed her eyes tightly, breathing hard and whimpering in pain. One of the medic droids came over to her, squeezing her hand tightly as she continued her labored breathing.

"There's still good-" Padme mumbled, as the contraction faded. He looked once more into Yoda's face, shaking her head, trying to convince him of something. "There's still good-"

Padme Amidala's head sunk backward, her eyes closing forever, and her chest stopped moving.

Yoda dropped his head, shaking slightly, his ears bobbing as he retreated from the hospital room, a resigned sorrow plastered on his face.

The medic Droid followed, and said to Yoda, Organa, See threepio, and R2D2 in a calm and oddly sterile voice, "We lost her. But if we act quickly we can still save the babies."

Organa looked surprised, and glanced over at Yoda, who still had his eyes closed, but his brows creased slightly in confusion.

"Babies?" the senator voiced, and followed by some inquisitive beeps and whistles from Artoo.

"Yes," the Medic Droid cooed, "She's carrying twins."

Yoda shook his head sadly, an odd wave of despair falling over the group.

"Uncertain the future has proven," Yoda said after a while, eyes still closed, "Clouded by the Dark Side the Force is. Changed forever things have."

Anakin stirred, the blackness overwhelming, but immediately he felt his throat constrict, and he reached up with his hands, grabbing his neck and letting out a low, guttural moan.

"Patience, my young apprentice," the raspy voice of Palpatine said from somewhere above - Anakin was unable to open his eyes, but his hands were still clutched around his own chafed throat, "the pain will abide shortly. Learn to harness the pain. Feel it in your body, Darth Vader, use it to your advantage."

A slight gurgling sound came from Anakin's throat, and Darth Sidious watched sullenly from the corner as his young apprentice lay on the sterile table – straps holding him in place in case he try and struggle. Medic Droids were swarming around him, checking his vitals constantly.

Anakin twitched incoherently, mentally not noticing, but he physically responded as one of the Droids slowly slid a needle into one of the large blue veins in his arm. His heart started pounding in his throat, and his chest heaved violently, to be met with the straps constricting his movements. He clutched harder on his throat as pain shot down through him in his parched mouth. Why hadn't they given him water?

He realized – very surreally – that he couldn't touch his own throat. He was bound to the table as the Droids fluttered around them. He couldn't see them, his eyes were tightly shut, but he could feel them. He was using The Force to squeeze his throat, trying to prompt stimuli, trying to release the pain.

Anakin felt his back arch, straining at the ropes, and he moaned, long and low, the air released from his lungs scraping against his parched throat like nails on a chalkboard. His groan grew louder, as his anger pulsed through him again, giving him power, as he harnessed the pain and forced it outward.

He heard the Medic Droids shaking, their metal parts clattering together as he assaulted them with the Force, the familiar sound, from the days on Tatooine, as parts smashed and the Droid's fluid splashed onto the floor.

The IV bag popped overhead, and some of the acidic medicine splashed onto his skin, burning his arms and bare chest and he groaned again, arching his back further, and hearing a massive rip as the leather straps frayed at the seams.

"Excellent, Anakin," the Emperor said from somewhere behind him, another wave of rage bursting in Anakin's veins, and he continued to radiate dark power, smashing what sounded like bottles and machines around him, things clanking to the floor as he continued to try to destroy everything around him.

The groan that was still emitting from his pale, dry lips grew louder as frustration overtook him, and it turned into a roar, pain both emotional and physical coursing through him, leaving him in total drugged despair. Medication was still pumping through his bloodstream, and he wasn't thinking clearly. He was out of control, and all that was holding him off from destroying everything within a mile was the opposing force – Palpatine. Darth Sidious counteracting his destructive power. And it frustrated him even more.

Anakin's eyes snapped open. A few more bottles smashed across the sterile floor and Anakin set bleary eyes upon the wreckage, finally releasing his fury and collapsing on the table, breathing hard. The edges of his sight were fuzzy, and he could barely see the smashed and destroyed medic droids littered on the floors. The only thing breaking the silence was a steady drip from the broken IV bag and Darth Sidious' muttered affirmations.

"Good, Anakin, good. You are ready. You… are… ready."

Anakin turned onto his side, setting his eyes upon his Master, the leather straps lying useless over the sides of the table - destroyed

"Thank you Master," Anakin said coarsely, air still hitting his throat like tiny needles, "I will not disappoint you."

Through the small slit of light that was cast on Palpatine's face behind the hood, Anakin detected a smile.

The harrowing sound of an organ wafted into the cool Naboo air, piping songs of death and resigned healing into the night air.

The procession wound its way on the dirt roads of Naboo, the field's silvery under the diamond moon hung in the sky, and cricket like creatures chirruping mournful songs all around them.

Padme's body, lifted on a sleek gurney – like coffin, was moved onward by two beasts from Naboo, and surrounded by saddened looking people.

Padme, skin pale and still engorged from her pregnancy, was decked out in a million white calla lilies, and in her hand, was the small trinket Anakin had given her. It was a lifetime ago.


	4. Entrance

**Chapter 3**

**Entrance**

Author's Note: I'm not one to usually add things before chapters (such as this)… but this is important. For everyone who is interested in seeing this story through (and I will have you know that it will be long, and I promise more engaging once I get the boring shit over with) I want to account for any problems with the next few chapters I may update. I am fighting depression at the moment, and even writing, which I love to do, has been a pull for me lately. And, I wanted to apologize for any lack of substance the following chapters may hold. I'm trying my best… and hopefully I'll be back on my feet in a few weeks. Cheers.

He was weightless. It was the strangest feeling – he tried extending his hand, but couldn't feel much more than a mild vibrating. But it was pleasing, and he sighed, letting the slightly shifting air engulf his tired body.

Obi-Wan felt himself moving, following a gentle path that gently nudged him further, and he let the current take him, the pleasant feeling running through his fingers and hugging his skin.

Carefully, he opened his eyes, struck with the cool moist atmosphere and clear white lights that twinkled and moved all around him. The edge of his vision was fuzzy and black, but as he blinked slowly, it cleared.

Obi-Wan, yet again, raised a hand, and spread his fingers in front of him. This time, he was able to see his bright skin, and happiness spread over him.

Slowly, he tried to walk, and felt as if he was gliding through the misty white Force, the benevolent and selfless power around him pulsing gently. He had been walking until he reached what felt like soft grass beneath his feet, and he looked up – through the shimming Force saw the true Jedi Temple – erected in the core of The Force, standing proud and munificent.

Obi-Wan Kenobi sighed, contentedly for the first time in a long time – He was home.

Anakin was laying, restless, on his bed, staring at the dark ceiling, a thin slits of light filtering in through the shades and cutting strips of light across his body. He took a deep shuddering breath – feeling his still healing body twinge at the movement of his chest heaving.

Anakin closed his eyes against the light, pain still tweaking his body and pinching his muscles. It hurt to breathe, both emotionally and physically, the pain in his charred throat a reminder of what he had done – and the rasp as he exhaled a shadow of his hardened resolve. The tainted whisper of Darth Vader.

Slowly, he opened his eyes once more, his vision slightly blurred and he glanced across the room, head moving to the side – and his gaze fell on the top of the dresser – and a malevolent light saver that was illuminated by a slat of light.

Painfully, Darth Vader stretched his arm in front of him, and summoned the weapon to his hand, feeling its power coursing through him as it ignited, the red blade whirring to life and swishing through the air with a familiar buzz as Anakin moved his wrist and let it cut through the air.

The glow of his new lightsaber put a red sheen on his now waxen skin – the color that had given life to his features drained from the physical sickness he had endured as well as the suppressant dark side. As he followed the deadly fluorescent weapon, his hand tightened on the hilt, and he quickened his movements, the light hum of its power creating a rhythm with each rasping breath of Anakin – his lungs releasing air with a low and labored wheeze.

And it was painful. Every movement he made – except for the circular movements of his wrist – sent tiny needles of pain through his joints and muscles. The aftermath of his duel with Obi-Wan still tormented his body, not for a minute letting him forget it. And with each tinny pain a corresponding wave of despair and hate blanketed him like a suffocating cloud of anger. He had sat with his new master, trying desperately to harness the dark side – to force himself to focus this anger, but the pain he had endured was too great.

Restless and alone, Anakin sat up, gasping with a hard hiss and clutching his bruised rib cage. The pain was excruciating once again, and he put his head in his hands letting the waft of pain subside before opening his bleary eyes once more, and standing up with wobbly legs. He delicately placed his lightsaber in his belt, and raised two fingers, pushing the door to the cell-like room open with a metallic buzz and walking into the hall, the Clone forces that inhibited the corridors of the Empire's Star Destroyer parting to let him pass.

"Lord Vader," one of the metallic voices of a Clone trooper said behind him, and Anakin sighed, turning around and looking into one of the white helmets of the new age Imperial Storm Troopers.

"Yes, General," Anakin replied impatiently, feeling the twinge of his nerve from turning around too sharply.

"The Emperor," he said, and Anakin winced, "says that you are to be kept on the ship."

"And why is this?" Skywalker returned, irritated, "he cannot keep me here."

"The new emperor," the Storm Trooper general said pointedly, "can request what he wants. Do not forget that you are under him."

Anger surged through Anakin once more, and his hands, now under his robes, clenched into fists. _He would soon see… he would soon see._

"Yes," Anakin said as calmly as possible, but focusing the anger, as his foolish master had taught him, into writhing and unbridled power, "but you are not."

Anakin thrust his hand forward, and clenched it in the air, hearing the Storm Trooper's breath release from his lungs with a gasp. The other troops had trickled from the corridor, so he was alone with the Storm Trooper who was vainly clawing at his throat, rasping as Anakin force choked him, slowly constricting further around his windpipe, and collapsing his lungs.

Through the force, Anakin was feeling the spark of life from the Clone's spirit slowly flicker, like a candle in the wind, until it went out. Anakin released him, and with a clash of the uniform on the ship's floor.

Anakin was breathing hard again, the rasp echoing around the hall, and an image of Padme flashed in his mind – the remind her of what he had done. Anakin backed up slowly and hit the wall, putting his head in his hands once again, breathing hard and feeling the acrid leather of his glove reach his nose.

Slowly, and on shaking limbs, once more, Anakin stumbled down the hallway.

Cold sweat beading on his forehead, and his whole body was shaking from exhaustion – it was if he had run the full length of the Star Destroyer. He reached the hangar, and pounded on one of the control panels, opening the hangar doors to get ready for his departure.

Anakin looked around, his eyes tired, but his old Jedi Starship – although it was still in the hangar bed - beaten and broken. And surely, if he were to drive it, he would be shot down by bounty hunters or unknowing Imperial Troops.

"Damn it," Anakin muttered under his breath, looking around. He closed his eyes, a wave of nausea hitting him and he stumbled backward. But what he felt made his heart stop.

He looked around. About four dozen troopers were making their way toward the hangar… he couldn't see them, but he could feel it. Was his master really trying to stop him? For an unknown reason, Anakin felt panic. Would Palpatine really try something? He was treacherous… it was his plan to commit treason, was it not? Why couldn't Palpatine be doing the same…

"No," he said to himself, but he had to get out of there. Clear his head.

He stumbled forward, feeling his outfit weighing down on him again, and flinching at the noise his heavy jackboots made on the steel floors, but luckily he made it to one of the sigh starfighters before the troopers made it to the hangar.

Skywalker prompted the ship open with the Force and leapt inside, pulling levers ruthlessly and hitting a variety of buttons before resting his hand on the blaster trigger. _For good measure._

"Anakin," a familiar voice said from behind him, and Anakin jumped. There was no time he could get back in time.

"Anakin," a distressed Palpatine said again, striding quickly across the hangar, and followed by several blaster wielding storm troopers.

"You are not thinking clearly," the emperor said gently, but his damaged vocals still settling eerily on the air, "Anakin you are angry. Very angry, and I understand. Please, let me help you."

After a moment of indecision, Anakin turned, looking at Palpatine with wide, now reddened and bloodshot eyes, "I will be back, my master. I give you my word."

"Stun him," Anakin heard one of the muttered voices of the troops, but it was too late. Anakin has lowered the hatch, and started the engine, the Imperial Fighter lifting from the ground and shooting off across the hangar.

Anakin, not used to this ship, felt it tip slightly, before leveling off. One of the troopers had triggered the door to the hangar, and, with corresponding 'ka-thunks,' as he raced toward the quickly shrinking opening.

"Shit, shit, shit," he repeated, scared that he wouldn't make it. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to clear it, Anakin tipped the ship completely on its side, relieved that he hadn't eaten anything that day.

Anakin tore out of the ship, a shower of sparks and a sickening crunch resonating through the hangar as the wings of the ship grazed the closing door.

Darth Vader cursed again, realizing that he didn't have a Droid on board and feeling his heart sink further, but his resolve hardened tenfold. After a moment of indecision, Anakin pressed some coordinates in his navigation computer, and prepared to make the leap into hyperspace, hoping he was going in the right direction. But it was too late now.

**Star Wars does not belong to me… but the wonderful George Lucas and all the other people that built upon his galaxy. Thanks for letting me mess around with them for a while.**


End file.
